To Kill The Winchesters
by Fernleaf007
Summary: Sam and Dean are separated, lost inside Purgatory; Heaven has sent out a rescue party but it may be too late. Phoebe, a powerful demon, has been commanded by Hell to wipe out The Winchesters before the angels get to them, or die trying. Contains swearing, emotional torture and angst. AU. Pre-Season 8


My eyes flashed open. Blinking, I stood up, my whole body ached. Looking around me I took in the sight of the forest around me. Huge, shadowy pines that clawed towards the sky, thick oaks that stood fast , the fog that was hiding most of the surrounding area and the foliage that grew in ragged clumps around the tree's.

The light was dull and bleak giving the whole forest a still, lifeless aura. Listening, I waited for any signs of life, the silence hung uncomfortably in the air. I looked down at my body; Crowley hadn't given me a chance to look at my host before I was sent through the portal into Purgatory. _What do I look like?_

I let my mind reach outwards; seeking out water, there was a pool not far from here. Stumbling slightly I set off, tripping over roots and catching my clothes on branches. Once I had reached the pool I stared hungrily at my meat-suit in the reflection.

She was about fifteen with unique but undoubted beauty, dark blonde hair and her _eyes_, her eyes glittered like a snakes, cold and dark. The smattering of freckles across her straight nose gave her a wilder look about her. She had high cheekbones and a sharp angular face that you could admire but never quite trust.

_She was perfect._

Suddenly a flash of metal flew past my head, missing me by inches. As I spun around another blur of silver flashed towards me. I caught the knife by its handle just before it embedded itself in my chest. As the arid tang of the metal drifted up I wrinkled my nose. It was made of iron. I looked back up towards him in mute fury; I let my eyes flash black.

He stiffened and reached fort another, larger blade; without hesitating I threw the knife in my hand back at his head.

It made a slight crunch as it entered his skull, his eyes widened slightly before he crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud.

As I walked towards him I noticed blood was pooling around the wound where the knife had entered his forehead, trickling down his face. He looked like he was in his late twenties with huge, high cheekbone's and a wide set jaw. His mouth was wide open with a look of confusion and incomprehension in his narrow, hazel eyes. His longish brown hair was matted with grim, dirt and sweat; he was very tall, well over six foot with broad shoulders and chest. He was dressed in layers, a grey top, plaid shirt on top of that and the outer shell was a plain brown jacket. He would have been handsome if it hadn't been for the knife sticking out of his forehead.

_I wouldn't worry Sammy._ I smiled. _Your brother will be joining you very shortly._

It only took me a few days to find Dean, he wasn't too far away, probably couldn't be too far away from his baby brother

When I found him he was crouched under a small clump of pine tree's sharpening a jagged silver blade with a piece of flint. He was singing quietly, as I got closer I could hear what it was. _Metallica?_ I thought with disgust. _Does he have no taste?_ I rolled back my shoulders and stepped out of the undergrowth.

"Dean Winchester." I stated coldly.

He glanced up, hands going straight for his weapon. I looked at it, making it fly out of his reach and into my hands.

"I didn't know I had a fan of my singing? Maybe I should bring out an album," He gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want?" His voice was low and gravely and much deeper than his pretty boy features let on.

My fellow demons hadn't been lying when they talked of his good looks. He was stunning to look at. His features were too fine, too delicate to be called anything _but_ pretty; High cheekbones, straight, fine nose and wide green eyes that were framed by long, dark eyelashes. I felt almost sad that I had to ruin such a pretty face.

"I'm here to kill you Dean." I said simply.

He stood up slowly, like a cobra ready to strike.

"You can try." He was smirking.

My smile vanished; I could feel my lips curling back into a silent snarl.

"Well, little Sammy wasn't hard to get rid of. I doubt you'll be any harder."

That did it.

He launched himself at me, roaring in a blind rage. I didn't flinch, I just simply cocked my head and he flew backwards, slamming into the pine tree behind him. He struggled, swearing, trying to throw off his invisible chains that kept him pinned to the tree.

He couldn't hurt me even if he tried. He's got no protective sigils, no Key of Solomon or Devil's Traps. No salt, no holy water. He's like a caged tiger, helpless against me and my tongue-which I'm presently going to use to tear his sanity to shreds.

"Now Dean," I sighed. "Please don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Sam would be disappointed in you, just losing it like this. I'd hate for you to die screaming and crying for your fried mummy like ickle Sammy."

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" He screamed.

I let my eyes flash black. His reaction was instant, recoiling back in a mixture of disgusted loathing, fear and something else that I couldn't quite read. I grinned.

It was like a dark veil descended over his face, the light went out of his eyes as he stared ahead at me with a look of pure, unbridled hatred, It was a look of liquid loathing, fluid in its frozen rigidity.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you." He said softly.

I would have almost taken his tone for playfully gentle if it went for the fire burning ice cold in those wide green eyes. I laughed coldly.

His eyes burned into mine, mossy green against black. I shook my head slowly, letting a cruel smile play across my lips.

When it comes down to it, breaking a man is easy: you just have to know where to apply the pressure.

"_This is going to be so much fun." _


End file.
